Fountain of youth
Copyright © 2008 Lusty Library
The gurgling water scatters diamonds into the sunlit air. Flat, lush grassy riverbanks suddenly rise upwards to my left and right and the steep valley sides are covered in gorse, bracken, heather and young trees. Over millennia, boulders from the blackened gritstone outcrops have toppled down into the water to be broken up by the seasonal gushing torrents. Several large flat stones jut out over the river and are heated invitingly by the midday sun, while the riverbed is a mosaic of multicoloured pebbles. Several slippery, moss-covered rocks are laid out like stepping-stones to trick the unwary or foolhardy. The map says ‘river’ but my mind says stream: at no point is it more than six feet wide and, where the water slows to a crawl in one of the many tiny natural dams, it cannot be deeper than two or three feet. This place is peaceful and beautiful. The only sounds, other than the constant chatter of the water, are from the creatures that live here: countless chirruping birds and buzzing insects.
We left the car sheltered in a leafy lay-by about 45 minutes ago and now trudge upstream to find a secluded spot. I carry a rucksack containing just a picnic and a blanket. She simply carries herself: elegantly, confidently, purposefully; long, blonde hair bouncing with every step and her firm, lean body sways like the occasional willow that clings to the valley sides. The short, white, flared dress and walking ...
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The gurgling water scatters diamonds into the sunlit air. Flat, lush grassy riverbanks suddenly rise upwards to my left and right and the steep valley sides are covered in gorse, bracken, heather and young trees. Over millennia, boulders from the blackened gritstone outcrops have toppled down into the water to be broken up by the seasonal gushing torrents. Several large flat stones jut out over the river and are heated invitingly by the midday sun, while the riverbed is a mosaic of multicoloured pebbles. Several slippery, moss-covered rocks are laid out like stepping-stones to trick the unwary or foolhardy. The map says ‘river’ but my mind says stream: at no point is it more than six feet wide and, where the water slows to a crawl in one of the many tiny natural dams, it cannot be deeper than two or three feet. This place is peaceful and beautiful. The only sounds, other than the constant chatter of the water, are from the creatures that live here: countless chirruping birds and buzzing insects.
We left the car sheltered in a leafy lay-by about 45 minutes ago and now trudge upstream to find a secluded spot. I carry a rucksack containing just a picnic and a blanket. She simply carries herself: elegantly, confidently, purposefully; long, blonde hair bouncing with every step and her firm, lean body sways like the occasional willow that clings to the valley sides. The short, white, flared dress and walking ...
Get The Full Story At Lusty Library
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